


Narcissus

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Bible Quotes, Catholicism, Christianity, Church scene, Confessional, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Debating dubious morality, Dubious Morality, Gabriel has intrusive thoughts, Gaslighting, Gen, Healing Through Religion, Hurt No Comfort, Past Relationship(s), Self Forgiveness, Self scapegoating, Some comfort though it is not until the end, Tentative worldbuilding, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Uriel (Good Omens), Whump, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21752416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You cannot defy the Almighty, Gabriel had mocked that day. The Almighty already knows what is best for you already because no one is ever out of Her best interests. Beelzebub was just being silly, paranoid and delusional, just like the angels involved in this revolution, and they should know because Gabriel would never lie to anyone, much less the Almighty. So Beelzebub should stop fussing, continue with their Heavenly duties and wait for that revolution to fizzle out and all will be well. Gabriel could hear his younger self very clearly now. That final day, he teased Beelzebub with a grin, thinking that this was all one elaborate farce. Beelzebub was too rational to join a revolution, and they were good friends, so they will look back at this moment and laugh, right?Beelzebub proved him wrong and fell.Six thousand years later, Gabriel works to set things right again. If only forgiveness was that easy.
Relationships: Beelzebub & Dagon (Good Omens), Gabriel & Beelzebub (Good Omens) (Past), Gabriel & God (Good Omens), Gabriel & Sandalphon (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

Gabriel knew Beelzebub before the war in Heaven.

They were friends, even, though Gabriel had since forgotten Beelzebub’s old name. It was fine, what mattered was what was on the inside, anyway. Before Beelzebub was the lord of the flies, they were an angel who had gold flecked upon their hair and marbled into their skin like kintsugi. Though introverted, in conversation they were eloquent, precise and thoughtful, while during their angelic duties, they were one of the more proactive members of Heaven. Gabriel admired them for that, while in turn, Beelzebub liked Gabriel’s company.

It was once the War in Heaven dawned upon them that their friendship soured. The revolution had been growing day by day until at last, it was something that no one in Heaven could ignore. Such a politically disrupting event such as that should’ve sent Beelzebub off into a long rant. Once Gabriel noticed that Beelzebub was unusually quiet despite the revolution, he knew that his friend must’ve been harbouring a lot of thoughts. So he coaxed out whatever Beelzebub needed to say, only to be shocked to find out that Beelzebub harboured empathies for the revolution. Looking back, Gabriel understood that what Beelzebub meant was that the revolution did, in fact, aim to put fellow angels into the best interests of the Almighty and that it was worth a try. But that was not what his past self thought. He had thought that what Beelzebub meant was that they wanted to be a part of this revolution. So Gabriel laughed in Beelzebub’s face.

You cannot defy the Almighty, Gabriel had mocked that day. The Almighty already knows what is best for you already because no one is ever out of Her best interests. Beelzebub was just being silly, paranoid and delusional, just like the angels involved in this revolution, and they should know because Gabriel would never lie to anyone, much less the Almighty. So Beelzebub should stop fussing, continue with their Heavenly duties and wait for that revolution to fizzle out and all will be well. Gabriel could hear his younger self very clearly now. That final day, he teased Beelzebub with a grin, thinking that this was all one elaborate farce. Beelzebub was too rational to join a revolution, and they were good friends, so they will look back at this moment and laugh, right?

Beelzebub proved him wrong and fell. 

Though they did have business-related conversations together, it was always as the lord of the flies and the messenger of Heaven. Nothing more, nothing less. And really, they spoke more during the eve of Armageddon than during the rest of the six thousand years. If Michael was not already in contact with Hell, Gabriel doubted that he and Beelzebub would have talked at all. 

Gabriel missed the intimacy of their past conversations, their commentaries and gossips of events in Heaven, their theories about what was to come, their assurances and support for each other. Gabriel remembered how patient the past Beelzebub was with him and his clumsy nature, which always made Gabriel feel secure and better about himself. 

Sometimes, as he watched Beelzebub leave, encrusted in boils as they sunk down beneath the earth, Gabriel had to ask himself: was it his fault? Was it his fault that Beelzebub fell? 

It must be. Beelzebub had trusted Gabriel enough to share their thoughts and empathies for the underground revolution, only for Gabriel to laugh in their face. That must’ve been the trigger that provoked them to fully dedicate themselves to the revolution. Beelzebub was stubborn, but they were intelligent and quiet and did not act impulsively unless provoked too much. Maybe if Beelzebub kept their mouth shut, maybe if _ Gabriel _kept his mouth shut, Beelzebub would not have fallen from grace, and Gabriel and they would still be friends.

But then Gabriel told himself that that was nonsense: Gabriel shouldn’t be responsible for Beelzebub’s fall, because if Beelzebub had been that persistent and serious, they would have been very committed to joining the revolution already. Right? Right? 

But what if he was wrong again? 

Perhaps that was another reason why Gabriel was so desperate for hope in their friendship. To assure himself, he recollected multiple times when Beelzebub even smiled with him. Not necessarily at anything he had said, but they had felt safe enough to smile in front of Gabriel. And if someone as reserved as Beelzebub was able to be emotionally vulnerable in Gabriel's presence, that must be a sign that Beelzebub had forgiven him, and if Beelzebub had forgiven him so easily, then it wasn’t Gabriel’s fault that they fell, therefore he had nothing to worry about after all. So, he took that smile as a sign to make amends and set things right again. 

The barrier between Heaven and Hell blurred after Armageddon was botched, too. It was not as scandalous for angels and demons to talk with each other anymore, so there was no need to be cautious, anyway. He'll use that as an excuse if everything did not go to plan. All he needed to do was to have a chat with Beelzebub like old times, remind himself that Beelzebub had forgiven him, and then the past will be in the past and they will be friends like always. 

Currently, Gabriel held a cardboard tray with two cups of the beverage Starbucks as he paced through the hallways of Hell. Gabriel had never been the type to consume beverages and food items, but he knew that demons were more in tune with Earthly comforts such as hunger, so maybe Beelzebub would appreciate it. And Beelzebub was the gluttony demon, anyway, so they should have no qualms against the offering. Gabriel could learn along, even if he did not like consuming foods at first-- mortal people had the social ritual of meeting up for coffee, so they could both follow suit together. The warm cups of coffee had a nice scent to them, and Gabriel figured out that maybe this was a reason why mortal people liked to consume things. The nice scent did not make eating as daunting anymore.

Making his way to Beelzebub’s office was harder than Gabriel had anticipated. Not because there were many obstacles while travelling to their office, no, though he did have to tell Sandalphon to wait for him upstairs. Gabriel just found it hard to stand the environment, that was all. Hell, he discovered, was a remarkably disgusting place. Slimy algae leaked down the concrete walls from naked, greasy pipes. A stench of sulphur and rot permeated the hallways that scratched Gabriel’s nostrils. Sullen-eyed, wart-crusted demons glared at this shining foreign angel, sending a tingle down Gabriel's spine like ice water. 

Gabriel decided to concentrate on something else as he strode at the same pace. Did Beelzebub had to live here all this time? He couldn’t stand this dump himself. Gabriel decided that he must invite Beelzebub to meet him in Heaven the next time they talk. Hell was a claustrophobic labyrinth with too many shadows, too much filth, too many mysteries. At least in Heaven, every inch was bright and clean and familiar. But then Gabriel remembered that he probably made Beelzebub fall here in the first place. He gulped and strode faster, fast enough to stop himself from thinking anymore, until at last, he was in front of Beelzebub's office door.

Beelzebub's office door stood out compared to the other doors of Hell. For one, while the wood was splintered and decayed like the other doors, it was tended enough that there were decorative engravings fit for a prince of Hell. The name _ Beelzebub _ was scorched into the wood in jagged letters as if a hot needle was pressed into the wood until it smoked and fizzled. Gabriel made a note not to touch that, since being Hell, this may have been burnt using hellfire. He drew in a deep breath, gathered his courage and rapped upon Beelzebub's office door.

"Come in," Beelzebub announced in a nonchalant way. It was as if they were expecting a lesser demon who wanted to deliver some reports. A worm of giddiness danced inside of Gabriel. Oh, what a surprise he will have in store for Beez!

And so Gabriel strolled into Beez’ office, a grin on his face as he carried the tray of Starbucks. Gabriel did not expect too drastic of an expression from Beelzebub. Perhaps an expression of surprise, maybe even a bit of amusement if Gabriel was lucky. 

No, Gabriel did not expect Beelzebub to sport a drastic expression at all. Yet once Gabriel glanced down, puzzled at the silent, tense atmosphere, he saw that the emotions Beelzebub sported could fill one of those mortal novels. Disbelief, held in their tense brows and wide eyes. Panic, concealed by lips pressed together into a thin, controlled line. Confusion, as seen with that one raised eyebrow. Anger (no, it was annoyance, he told himself), according to how Beelzebub tensed their whole form was as if they were a cornered feral cat.

Did Beelzebub not want him to be here? Nonsense, he told himself. Of _ course _ they would have, they were just a little surprised, that was all. “It’s Starbucks!” Gabriel stated with the same tone he would use with a close friend (funny how he had to make that distinction even though Beelzebub should’ve still been one). “Funny story, so I ordered two cups of coffee, but the barista wrote both of them with my name! 'Gabriel'! Of course, I can't just use a miracle on a coffee cup so I scribbled out my name on one of them and then wrote yours!" Gabriel placed the cardboard tray onto Beelzebub’s desk to emphasise his point, expecting Beelzebub to take the one with their name.

Beelzebub maintained eye contact with Gabriel for a few seconds more, and then, without even glancing at the coffee, picked up their stack of paper and shuffled them. Having to work a little more? That was fine. Gabriel was getting a little busy with arranging order back into Heaven after Armageddon, too. So Gabriel continued: “I was thinking. Mortals drink Starbucks whenever they meet up, so I was thinking that we could follow suit!”

Gabriel waited for a reply, but Beelzebub continued to shuffle that stack of paper and so he got nothing. Why? Why would Beelzebub refuse a conversation with him? Gabriel blinked.

“You do know what it is-"

“I do, I’m not stupid," Beelzebub spat out as they slammed the stack of papers onto the desk. “What do you want?”

Was this his chance? “I’d like for us to have a chat. Like old times.”

“Leave.” 

Even Gabriel had to admit, those words stung. He kept a stiff upper lip anyway. He straightened his back and cleared his throat. "We erhm, we don't have to be hostile towards each other anymore," Gabriel begun, hoping to stir Beelzebub's interests. “After all, Michael _ did _ keep in touch with Hell for Armageddon. And it worked out great.” Beelzebub failed to make eye contact and continued to shuffle through the paper stack as if Gabriel was not here. What task would require Beelzebub to shuffle that same stack of paper throughout the whole conversation? 

What if he started somewhere a little more personal? Something related to Beelzebub in a personal context? That way, Beelzebub could know that Gabriel was here to talk not about their duties, but to talk as plain old Gabriel and Beelzebub. Gabriel cleared his throat.

“So-! What have you been up to?”

“Ending relationships with narcissists who made me fall.”

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows at this response. He was about to ask who it was, even. And then it dawned upon him. Gabriel had wanted to talk with Beelzebub to trick himself into thinking that he didn’t make them fall after all. Ironically, he did not consider or even expect the alternate result. While he knew that his actions must have affected them, never did he expect Beelzebub to accuse him of that. Maybe that was why something shrivelled inside of him as if his whole world had been shattered. 

And so Gabriel had to leave. He managed to summon enough self-control to walk out of Beelzebub’s office neutrally. Not enough to suppress the turbulent thoughts in his mind, however. 

Why? Gabriel asked himself. Why was he, the angel, the wrong one? He would never purposefully ruin someone's life, would he? He would never hurt someone as a form of sadistic pleasure, would he? He would never commit any one of the deadly sins, would he?

But Gabriel realised that he was just lying to himself again.

He made Beelzebub fall by cornering them and make them spit out their private thoughts. He belittled Beelzebub’s beliefs into a farce. Of course Beelzebub had all the right to push him astride, it just so happened that the only way back then was to fall. Because Gabriel had been so arrogant that Beelzebub would rather fall than see him again.

Pride. The sin of the Adversary himself. That was what he thought as he pictured his younger self, eyes full of schadenfreude, grinning from ear to ear, so convinced that he was the righteous one and none the wiser as to what his words meant. The fact that Gabriel even now thought that this event was insignificant when it meant so much to Beelzebub was a sign that something was wrong. He was blind. How long had he been blind? How had he been blind enough to think that his words had not affected Beelzebub at all? 

He shook his head. Gabriel was being stupid again. He had known that already. He knew how Beelzebub fell because of him. He knew that he had been the one who pushed Beelzebub too far. So why was this revelation so confusing to him, as if he had only been just told this news and as if this was not the truth? He should’ve faced the truth sooner, and he had not because he assumed that just because he was an angel, he could never do anything bad.

Gabriel rubbed his face and glanced back. Beelzebub’s office was a few metres away, and he felt glad to see that he closed the door on his way out. Should he go back inside to get the coffee? Nevermind, Gabriel thought as he shook his head and strolled out of Hell. He never understood the appeal of "eating", anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

It was no secret amongst anyone that the bureaucracy of Heaven and Hell were in dire need of reorganisation.

The clockwork of Heaven and Hell had been uprooted in preparation for the Armageddon that never came. Entire divisions of angels and demons were torn apart and rearranged into battalions. Angels tasked to be guardian angels had to leave their assigned charges, demons who bought mortal souls had to cancel their contracts until further notice. Offices were retailored into meeting places that taught the battle procedures and formations expected to be undertaken. Yes indeed, Heaven and Hell were retailored into juggernauts overnight. 

But now that the Earth was granted newfound freedom by the Antichrist, the tedious task of restoring the machinery to its old self must be done. Every angel in Heaven was working overtime to do so, from the mightiest Cherubim to the most ordinary angel. Gabriel’s part in repairing Heaven, being the messenger Archangel, was to comb through all of the files concerning angel-mortal relations and to seek out any underperforming anomalies of what was expected. Not that he had a lot of objections to his task. Gabriel did not mind the toil. Of course not. He welcomed toil, in fact. It was all to restore order into Heaven, so Gabriel knew that his efforts would be worth it. Yes, Gabriel was willing to undergo any kind of gruelling work as long as it served Heaven, even if he had to trek through every square kilometre of the Sahara desert for an angel whose licenses had expired years ago. 

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Once he and his workers did a tally of the files present, they discovered that there were too few of them, certainly not enough to accommodate all of Heaven’s 10 million angels. At least half of the files seemed to be missing. They made a hypothesis that many files were thrown out before the botched Armageddon because it was assumed that they won’t be needed ever again. Because of this, they will have to notify many angels to redo their paperwork, check the paperwork, approve the paperwork. But it was fine. They’ll just have to seek out whoever was not doing their files and ask them to complete them. Just a bit more toil. Nothing much in the grand scheme of things, especially not for Gabriel. 

Gabriel would do anything for Heaven. Anything for the Almighty.

But a meeting in Hell with Beelzebub? As he heard the request over the phone, a heavy weight sunk into his abdomen. 

It was usually Michael who went down into Hell to negotiate matters. This time, Gabriel was specifically requested to come downstairs. It was to cross-reference profiles of angels with Beelzebub. Gabriel couldn’t shake off the suspicion that there wasn’t an ulterior motive to this meeting, especially since Hell’s files were supposed to be dealt with by Dagon. Gabriel nevertheless kept a stiff upper lip and agreed to go, no matter how anxious the thought made him. 

Hell. Why did it have to be in Hell? As Gabriel waited in one of Hell's dingy meeting rooms, a feeble lightbulb flickered over his head. It coughed and spluttered, a beaten dead horse desperate to be snuffed out already. The flickering was starting to make Gabriel nauseous. What was wrong with Heaven? Heaven was cleaner, brighter, too! One would have thought that a brighter location would be preferred when cross-referencing papers. He couldn’t imagine having to squint at the cragged handwritings in this dim light. 

It was disgusting in this environment. Now that he sat down, the stench of mildew, rot and rust was unbearable, or at least, overwhelming. At least Gabriel could stride away from these smells the last time he was in Hell. But now he must remain in one spot for this meeting, even if the stench and the shadows jabbed into him like a million pin needles. There better be a good reason why those files could not be brought up to Heaven. 

Gabriel glanced up once he heard footsteps in the hallway outside. That should be Beelzebub. There was something ironical with how he thought of Hell as a cesspool when he was the reason why Beelzebub fell into this place. Gabriel sighed. Though his last meeting with Beelzebub was brief, Gabriel knew that Beelzebub had not wanted him to be here. And while Gabriel could return to Heaven, Beelzebub was stuck in Hell. But it should be fine now. Beelzebub just wanted to cross-reference some papers, and so Gabriel would not have to think about that last encounter. To calm himself down, Gabriel twirled his thumbs together and whistled the tune of a musical he had watched-

"Are these all of the contracts, Dagon?" Gabriel glanced towards the closed door and blinked. How come he didn’t hear someone else walk here?

"Why yes, my Lord! My subordinates and I have combed and wrangled through _ every _ filing cabinet in Hell, and I'll be damned (or rather, _ blessed _ )" Beelzebub, to his surprise, chuckled at that, "if there is still _ one _ stray contract out of my grasp! We even found some hastily written ones written on post-it-notes and napkins and I think one on a kitchen tile if you search hard enough." 

"Are there!”

“Yes! But at least that tile was durable. The napkins are so pathetically flimsy! They rip, they tear, they break apart too easily. I’d love to hunt down whoever thought writing contracts on napkins was a good idea, then skin them and dry their hides into proper paper! At least_ then _they’ll be useful, my Lord!”

Gabriel heard Beelzebub hum in agreement. “In this case, we need to issue official contract templates sooner or later. Ones that cannot be destroyed."

"Terrific idea, my Lord!"

Beelzebub huffed. “No use in always using honorifics, Dagon. What’s a good reason for doing so, hm?”

There was a pause from Dagon. Gabriel bit his lower lip in anticipation. “Hmm. Why you’re right. There is no good. But it _ is _ in my nature. I am a demon, after all!”

And so Dagon cackled, and Beelzebub joined too with a low, quiet laughter. Gabriel furrowed his brows at the context, but then he realised something else. Beelzebub was laughing! The old Beelzebub never allowed themselves to laugh in front of anyone unless that person was Gabriel. To hear Beelzebub laugh with some other demon, especially without him, did not seem right. Beelzebub’s conversation with Dagon for quite a long time, too, and from what Gabriel was hearing, seemed to be small talk. The old Beelzebub liked to keep their conversations short, _ especially _ if it was small talk, yet here Beelzebub was enjoying the discussion of a trivial discussion centring around their day with Dagon. Beelzebub should know that they were expecting a visitor. Even though Gabriel knew that Beelzebub did not want to see him, Beelzebub’s relaxed speech confirmed that Beelzebub just wanted him down here for the files. At least it meant that Beelzebub did not have any other motives. But the fact also meant that Beelzebub did not need Gabriel as a friend anymore. Gabriel did not know what to do with this revelation.

Beelzebub did eventually enter the room after the lengthy banter. Gabriel expected a greeting from Beelzebub, even a quick “hello” once they came inside. If Beelzebub had been in a chipper enough mood to joke around with Dagon, they shouldn’t mind Gabriel too much today. Beelzebub stayed silent as they unpacked the briefcases onto the table. Gabriel couldn’t help but notice that Beelzebub did not even glance at him. It was fine, Gabriel told himself. Beelzebub did not owe him anything. People did not have to make every greeting obvious, either. 

Gabriel cleared his throat. "So… you’ll just look at these profiles today and cross-reference them. Do I need to do anything else-"

"It's fine."

"Are you sure? There must be something else I can do."

"No, you’re here with the files for cross-referencing. Look at the handwriting, see if any of them match or if any one of them are recognisable."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Why-”

“Just do your job.”

That did not answer Gabriel’s question, but he figured out that if Beelzebub had such a detailed plan, there must be something worthwhile. And so Gabriel shrugged and examined the handwriting of the papers.

For an hour longer, he and Beelzebub shuffled through their own papers, briefly mentioning when the handwritings were similar and categorising them together if they seemed to match. It was a clean, businesslike interaction with no strings attached. Even somewhat peaceful. Gabriel watched as Beelzebub skimmed through their contracts, calmer than he had ever seen them in recent years, with not a hint of malice in their face. Gabriel was confused at how that bitter conversation last week could have happened and whether Beelzebub had any grudges against Gabriel after all. It was like as if Gabriel had not ever done anything wrong. They were working together so peacefully, so that meant that there was nothing too irreversible or unforgivable about their friendship, right?

Their workflow was interrupted once Beelzebub furrowed their brow in concentration as they stared at a spot on a contract, then back at an angel’s profile. 

“Do you want to say something?” Gabriel asked.

Beelzebub stayed silent and Gabriel bit his lower lip. This silence was unnerving Gabriel. Both the anticipation and the anxiety was bringing him on edge. What did Beelzebub have to say? Did it have anything to do with him? Did Gabriel read the wrong signs and overlook something vitally important and say the wrong thing? Yet Beelzebub still stayed silent. Gabriel tensed in anticipation. Then he glanced back down and sighed. He accepted that he read the signs wrong. He'll do better next time. He-

“Some angels are trying to pass off as Hell’s demons," Beelzebub stated.

“What?”

“Growing daft? I said that some angels are trying to pass off as Hell’s demons. Explains why Hell seemed to have more demons than contracts all of a sudden.”

Oh. So it wasn't because Beelzebub wanted to ignore him. Thank goodness. But after he considered what Beelzebub had said, Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Angels passing off as demons in Hell? No… that’s ridiculous!”

Beelzebub’s brow twitched as they grimaced and Gabriel realised that he said the wrong thing. “Same goes for demons passing off as angels in Heaven. I’ll be surprised if none of you Archangels wrangle out any.”

Why would demons want to pass off as angels? Could it be that they miss their old life? Gabriel would have dismissed that very thought. But there was a disappointed tone in Beelzebub’s voice as if they knew that that possibility was a real issue in Hell. Redemption was a path encouraged for everyone to seek the light of God, no matter whatever sin they bore. Yet demons were barred off from their former home in Heaven. Angels could fall and become demons, but were there ever demons who had risen into angels? That thought made Gabriel think too much about righteousness and regret and persecution and hypocrisy, so he changed the topic. “Why would angels want to fall now? What good does that give them?”

“No no, they’re not fallen. You can only be fallen if the Almighty decrees you to be." A weight sunk in Gabriel's stomach. He did not have the heart to tell Beelzebub that that rumour was started so that no one questioned why Heaven was excommunicating the suspected traitors during the War in Heaven. Yet he was a part of this system. "Probably all just fledgling brats. They want to be on the winning side, thinking that just because demons were the rebellers we are right, but no. They won’t win on this side. It’s written in the fucking text. Heaven wins, Hell becomes a pit of fire, new Earth and new Heaven and all that.”

“That’s silly! Of_ course _ The Almighty said that Heaven will win the next war! Or… would had." Gabriel shrugged. Then he realised that his message may not have been phrased the most appropriately. "You get the gist. Don’t the other demons expect to win, too? You all must want to finally win! Get some good old fashioned revenge against Heaven?”

Beelzebub's eyes softened into a sad, pensive look. Gabriel's heart dropped into his abdomen. What did he say? He mentioned how the demons would’ve wanted to win against the angels in Armageddon. Wasn’t that true? But then Gabriel considered what that meant for Beelzebub.

Then he realised. It was because Beelzebub didn’t want revenge against Gabriel. Even though Gabriel made them fall. Even though Beelzebub had all the freedom to wish vengeance all they wanted, they were still conflicted at the thought of meeting Gabriel again in the second war of Heaven as enemies. 

Did Beelzebub miss him too?

"Hey. I get-"

Beelzebub slapped their stack of contracts onto the desk and continued to skim through them as if nothing was said. Gabriel blinked. He glanced towards his papers and back at Beelzebub’s.

They ended the meeting after a few hours once the last contracts and profiles were compared. Gabriel turned around as he watched Beelzebub leave without another word. It bothered Gabriel a bit that he had to be the one talking, but it was fine. Beelzebub had always been the introvert. Gabriel cleared his throat. “Do I need to say anything to anyone upstairs? Messenger Archangel and all?”

“I’ll call Michael.” They'll call Michael? Gabriel understood that it would be convenient, but it was his purpose to deliver messages, and he was right in front of Beelzebub, too. 

"Not even to… to comb out stray demons in Heaven? I'm assuming that that's what you were suggesting from our earlier conversation…" even though Gabriel was very sure that there were no hidden demons in Heaven. At least he hoped so.

“As I said, I’ll call _ Michael _.”

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows together. But didn’t Beelzebub miss Gabriel too? Beelzebub started to look away, and Gabriel’s head spun from the internal panic that ensued.

“Beelzebub!” He cried out. That new name stabbed Gabriel’s tongue like a wasp sting. 

Beelzebub stopped walking, though they did not turn around. They sighed. “What is it?” Something bored and annoyed in that tone made Gabriel regret every single syllable he had said. 

Gabriel cleared his throat. “So about…” Gabriel decided to find out Beelzebub’s true stance to their friendship. “That other time…” when somehow you called me a narcissist, when somehow I had to leave, when somehow my proposal was turned down…

“... And? Come on, make it quick, I don’t have all day.”

Gabriel fumbled with his lapels. “You know last week when I brought some Star… Starbucks in…”

"The what?”

“The Starbucks. Erhm, coffee?”

“You’re overreacting. It’s fine.”

“No, not that. What about when… when you called me a narcissist?”

Beelzebub turned around, and Gabriel thought he saw confusion in their eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t! But I thought… I’m very sure that it happened last week, surely! Didn’t it? And me, being a narcissist, didn’t it matter a lot to you?”

Beelzebub rubbed their temple. Then with a sigh, they said: “I am very busy, I do not have the time to bother with personal relationships. If I can't remember it then it's not that important.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. He glanced to the side and cleared his throat. Did he remember their last meeting wrong? If so, what did Beelzebub really say? If their words were not that grave and Gabriel was overreacting, then what did their last meeting look like in Beelzebub’s point of view? Did Beelzebub say a nonchalant response and wait for Gabriel to respond, only to be confused once Gabriel left? Gabriel did not even let Beelzebub respond, what if what he got was only part of the big picture?

“Well? What else do you have to say? Cough it up,” Beelzebub ordered.

Gabriel sighed. “Nothing.”

And without a hitch, Beelzebub turned around and walked away. 

Their conversation last week did happen, he was sure of it! What was he talking about, of course it did. Did Beelzebub call him a narcissist after all? Or was that an illusion done by his pride again? Gabriel rubbed his head. Beelzebub did not remember Gabriel being called a narcissist. What if they were right? What if they were saying something that sounded similar so Gabriel just remembered it wrong? It should be. Why else would Beelzebub be so calm around him during this meeting? 

What if he was wrong? What if their relationship right now was salvageable, only that Gabriel had ruined it again? What if their last encounter was not that drastic, but thinking made it so? There it was, happening again. It happened first just before Beelzebub fell when Gabriel assumed that Beelzebub wanted to fight in the revolution. Always sensationalising the subject, just because of some subconscious urge to do so. It was likely that Beelzebub just said something, anything, and Gabriel just had to make it all about self-pitying himself. 

Gabriel had thought that after he made Beelzebub fell, they had cast off Gabriel completely and that those smiles in Gabriel’s presence were just coincidences. But what if those smiles were not coincidences? Did he fail to see that Beelzebub was trying to cooperate with him? It was already hard for demons to be forgiving.

Hard for demons to be forgiving! Bold words coming from an angel who made Beelzebub fell. What did he know? Beelzebub knew a lot more about what actual angels and demons felt while Gabriel did not. What if Gabriel was prejudiced and his worldview was biased? Did he assume that Beelzebub said something a lot more shocking just because of the context that they were a demon? How long had he been doing this?

If Gabriel was not that clumsy with his words, he and Beelzebub would’ve still had good relations. That was the case now. That was the case the last time. 

That had always been the case with him and Beelzebub. 

The Almighty makes no mistakes whenever She creates Her creations. Yet Gabriel couldn't help but wonder otherwise. He wondered, considering how he could never say what he truly meant and how he could never understand what the other had said, if something went wrong with him. Why would the Almighty ever draft a messenger Archangel who could never correctly understand the words in the big picture?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel turns to the good book for guidance.

There were demons hiding in Heaven after all. 

The news was delivered later in the week by Michael. Beelzebub was right, Gabriel was wrong. He did not know how to feel about that. But what did he expect? Beelzebub was the smarter one, after all, and Gabriel had always been the one to judge appearances. 

When considering all the files that were missing, it became very clear how a demon was able to slip in and parade around under a different name-- all they needed to do was to say that their papers were accidentally destroyed and then go to an empty post. Gabriel did not know why he expected there to be no demons hiding in Heaven when it was so easy for anyone to do so. 

Dealing with them was a whole different matter. Every word inside of Gabriel’s throat coagulated in there into a thick boulder that stayed there unless the words were chipped and spat out individually. Gabriel was sorry, but as he lectured this demon, he couldn’t stop thinking about how full of pity Beelzebub’s voice was when they mentioned the demons who wanted to return here. Gabriel also couldn’t help but remember how he was the one with the words that damned Beelzebub, and right here, right now as he tried to lecture this demon, it seemed to prove that he had never changed since then. 

His mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere, too. What if Heaven was wrong? What if what Gabriel was doing was not right after all, only that he was too fooled by the facade to notice? What if Heaven was too detached from God’s wishes to the point that it was virtually unrecognisable? After all, the Almighty stated that whoever believes in Her was to be reborn, yet no demon was ever allowed to become an angel again. What would the Almighty say if She saw Heaven as it was now, turning away former angels who sought sanctuary?

Or was he taking her words too literally? If Heaven was indeed as hypocritical as claimed, wouldn’t the Almighty step in and say anything to them? Wouldn’t the knowledge that Heaven was flawed be more commonplace? Gabriel was not exactly in charge of how Heaven was structured, nor was he so streetsmart about the logistics of this system. Should he have an opinion of how it’s run if he did not understand the fine reasons for these choices?

Thinking. So much thinking. He rubbed his temple as the demon watched. All this thinking was causing Gabriel’s head to ache. And so Gabriel called Michael to sort this whole business out. She was always the one with the thicker spine, anyway. 

Gabriel strolled back to his office. The greetings from his workers seemed to melt into white noise, no matter how frequently they seemed to repeat them. Gabriel’s head was stuffed full of questions that manifested into thick tufts of clouds. Gabriel hated those questions. He didn’t mind them if they were quick, direct, and had definite answers. But not if they didn't. Nothing should be unanswered, otherwise what was the point of having asked the question? Too many questions bog down and distract the mind, even though only God knows what was the true answer.

God knows.

It was as if a revelation had come upon him in a snap. He had an idea that just might clear up this whole disaster, or at the very least, give him a better idea about it. And so Gabriel quickened his pace until he reached his office.

Gabriel hung a ‘do not disturb’ sign outside of his office and locked the door before closing the blinds. After preparations were finished, Gabriel sat down at his desk. He took some deep breaths to settle his state of being. Then, he was ready.

Gabriel made the sign of the cross and pulled out his drawer. The good book sat in the centre of the compartment. Whenever Mettatron was quiet or whenever Gabriel needed some more personal guidance, he turned to the blessed words of the Almighty shared by Her. Several tabs stuck out from the pages-- green tabs marked the books that dealt with future plans for Heaven and Earth's relations such as Genesis, the four Gospels, and Revelation (to be removed), while the violet tabs marked Gabriel’s favourite passages.

He thumbed one of the violet tabs from the New Testament, recollecting its verse. As Gabriel thought about its meaning, he furrowed his brows. Its advice appeared to be stilted now. Daresay, inappropriate. But this was a verse by Jesus Christ Himself, why would anything he said be inappropriate if they were meant to be timeless? He flipped to the tab in mind:

_"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a basket. Instead, they set it on a lampstand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in Heaven."_   
_Matthew 5:14-16_

But… Gabriel had a tendency to believe that every one of his actions were right, even if they were stark problems. What if his light was not a light, but a plague? What if his pride blinded him and made him think that he was doing good while he was not? Gabriel had let himself shine this “light” of his, alright. Beelzebub did not want any of it, and every action Gabriel did only seem to worsen his relationship with Beelzebub.

What did it mean to be a light right now? To be the righteous one? To persevere and make a difference? To be who he was and be unbashful of it? Because none of these options seemed fitting. Gabriel used to see this verse as an encouragement to keep on doing what he had always done, because as an angel, the Almighty crafted him to fulfill a purpose, and the plan he followed was always supposed to be right. 

But Gabriel understood that it did not matter whether Gabriel was an angel or not, because he had done the wrong choice and made Beelzebub fell. He was just lucky enough to have had no consequences. Gabriel was the messenger Archangel, but every word that came out of his mouth seemed to be venomous and hurt Beelzebub. And if you could even hurt a demon, there must be something gravely wrong. 

Gabriel knew that something must be done about him and what he believed in, he just did not know what right now. It did not seem appropriate to talk with Beelzebub, and Heaven’s system was so complex he did not where to start such a risky, unventured topic. 

To his surprise, a small part of him wanted to feel frustrated anyway. That small part still wanted to be frustrated at what happened last week. Why? Why would he want to feel frustrated at what Beelzebub said if Gabriel was responsible for making them fall? And Beelzebub was the one who was right about not only the angels in Heaven, but the demons in Hell, so clearly they had a wider, more honest worldview.

How natural that feeling of spite came to him unnerved Gabriel, especially since there were all the reasons not to. To convince himself that he shouldn’t feel spiteful, Gabriel recollected some verses related to forgiveness and flipped to them:

_“But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in Heaven. For He gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and unjust alike. If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that?”_   
_Matthew 5:44-46_

_“Pay attention to yourselves! If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive them, and if he sins against you seven times a day, and turns to you seven times, saying, “I repent”, you must forgive him.”_   
_Luke 17:3-4_

_“Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven.”_   
_Luke 6:37_

There were several verses dedicated to teaching about forgiveness in the bible. Considering how that was a weakness of him, it should be vital that Gabriel kept this in mind from now on. See? That wasn’t so hard, Gabriel told himself. Accept that perhaps he had been wrong about a lot of things and that he shouldn’t feel spiteful but forgive the other. 

To forgive… but what did it mean to forgive? What was forgiveness if it was not expressed but a thought, and what did forgiveness mean if it was rejected? Was Beelzebub wrong for rejecting Gabriel’s apology? But Beelzebub did not openly reject it. It was not Beelzebub who sinned against Gabriel. Gabriel made them fall. Gabriel was the one who had turned against Beelzebub. Beelzebub fell because of Gabriel. Sure, their words had hurt him, certainly, but they probably did not even mean what they had said as Gabriel thought, and those words were true, too. Shouldn’t whatever Beelzebub had said towards him be justified?

The mere thought frightened him somehow, yet he could not be further from surprised. Yes, Gabriel did feel embarrassed by Beelzebub’s treatment of him. But he shouldn’t feel spiteful. Gabriel flipped through more pages. What he needed was a verse about the dangers of enacting revenge. Revenge… revenge revenge revenge...

_“You have heard that it was said, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.”_   
_\- Matthew 5:38-39_

Two thousand years ago, this was a fierce statement about peaceful resistance. Jesus encouraged the people of Israel to demand proper etiquette from the Roman soldiers who treated them as subhuman. But Beelzebub was not the one who harmed him in the first place-- rather it was Gabriel, so suddenly this verse did not match their situation as much anymore.

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows. Something was very wrong. So he was the one who made Beelzebub fell, yet he was the one who tried to forcefully restart their relationship. Beelzebub only responded in a way to stop that, and they just happened to be sentences that rubbed Gabriel the wrong way. In no way was what Beelzebub said comparable to what Gabriel had done.

It was Gabriel who gave them the smack of the rod. It was Beelzebub who turned the right cheek. 

No… no no no. But it was reality, no matter what Gabriel thought. Gabriel mistreated Beelzebub, Beelzebub was, in fact, acting more merciful towards him. 

What frightened Gabriel was how much he wanted that to be wrong, even though he was not the victim. Why were these familiar texts of his Mother unsettling him? Why did these answers only cause more questions? Why couldn't the words of his Heavenly Mother help him? Why did these words no longer comfort him, but plunged him into the unknown? 

Gabriel read through all of the aforementioned passages once more, just in case he had been drowsy enough to blur the meaning of these words. No luck. Rereading them arguably diluted the power of these words. 

And so Gabriel closed the bible, packed it away and sat at his desk, head more full of clouds than ever before.


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel was aware that he would need to wait at least three or four more weeks. After that, Beelzebub would call him down again, and then Gabriel could finally get answers. Gabriel wanted to think that all of these doubts were only delusions that did not mean anything. But the only way he could convince himself was if Beelzebub told him that. And if they were all true after all? Well… it was an answer at least, it was better than nothing. 

And so Gabriel waited.

The only problem was that months went by. 

Shouldn’t he had been required to talk with Beelzebub already? But then Gabriel realised that negotiating with Hell had always been Michael's job. He himself was only a messenger. It explained why Gabriel saw Michael in Heaven less. Was this right? Was he supposed to be cut off completely? Wasn’t there some sort of resolution to all of this?

Life went on, anyway. 

Life went on, and no one seemed to notice the flaws of Heaven’s system. It itched him. Why didn’t anyone else speak about how Heaven was flawed like how Gabriel discovered? Was it because there was something else to that issue that was barred from Gabriel? Whatever issue it was, it should be solved and dealt with immediately. Shouldn't such issues have a long lasting impact on Heaven? He felt isolated. It was just himself and his thoughts while no one noticed a thing wrong. 

After his last encounter with Beelzebub, the only natural action was to do nothing. But just because an action was natural did not mean that it was right, it just had the least consequences. All Gabriel wanted to do, while paralysed by the many choices that raged in his mind, was to do nothing, but it didn’t help that his mind was yelling at him that something was wrong in his inaction. He will wait, Gabriel scolded himself. He will wait until Beelzebub contacted him again if he was that desperate-- if he had the audacity to ask Beelzebub for forgiveness after everything that happened, he should at least gather the patience to wait.

Life went on, anyway. 

It was obvious that something had been wrong if Gabriel was the one who did all of the talking. He should’ve remembered that Beelzebub had never been the one to start conversations first. To an introvert like Beelzebub, having someone always invading your presence must be frustrating. That must be why Beelzebub had not bothered to talk with Gabriel for several weeks, because Gabriel just had to push Beelzebub on to satisfy his own questions and impatience. What kind of forgiveness would that be? Chasing someone down, constantly breathing behind their neck, desperate to wring out an answer they did not have. 

The other factor was that Gabriel was scared. Gabriel was scared, because he did not know what action was the right action. What did Beelzebub want him to do? What did Beelzebub think of him? What did he need to do to set things right? Whose choice was the right choice? Heaven’s? Beelzebub’s? The thought itched the back of his mind whenever he carried on his daily business. Did Beelzebub pity him for only being able to follow Heaven’s laws? Or did they hate him for that? What did they want him to do to win back their trust? To flip how Heaven decides who stays and who falls? To request a pardon on behalf of all the demons in Hell? To apologise to all the souls that inhabit Heaven, telling them that what they believed in were wrong? Or did they not want anything after all?

See, that was why Gabriel had to follow all of Heaven’s laws, no matter how wrong they may be. It was because he lacked the hindsight to notice anything wrong and to act independently. What was the right choice? Nothing felt right anymore. Every option seemed to contradict each other. Everything just fucking had to, didn’t they? 

Life went on, anyway.

Or was he the one wrong? Was Gabriel the one wrong about Heaven? Had Heaven always been right the whole time, only that Gabriel had been persuaded just because he pitied Beelzebub?

No. No, that couldn’t be it, right? Gabriel could not fathom why Beelzebub would be the wrong one. 

Gabriel was the one who was always wrong. Gabriel should be the one who should be doing something to atone for that. Weren’t the right choices always supposed to be the hardest ones?

Finally, he had had enough. Gabriel had to be the one who does it, because there must be something he had not done yet. That should explain why Beelzebub had been ignoring him. He will solve everything by dealing with the root of all this. All of these thoughts he had were all irrelevant and incorrect. He wanted these thoughts harboured to be delusions that were useless to him after all, and he will do so by proving them wrong. 

If Beelzebub forgave him, all of these thoughts will be gone. 

Shut off the surroundings of Hell. Don’t bother with the grime, the rot. That was just what this place looked like. Walk forward. Focus on the path. Think about what you will say to Beelzebub.

“Hello.” No. “Morning.” No. “I am here to talk.” Better. “I am sorry…”

Was he ready to say that? Was it even useful? Could one ‘sorry’ erase six thousand years worth of ignorance?

Efficient. He needed to be more honest, yet efficient.

A deep sadness welled within Gabriel somehow. Why did it have to come to this? This whole mess began as a simple intention to reconnect with Beelzebub again. Beelzebub had been his best friend. Yet here he was, calculating a simple conversation into a science. He should throw away all these other luggage and talk to his best friend again.

Gabriel drew a deep breath in, ignoring the stench around him. Before he got ready for his trip to Hell, Gabriel looked through Heaven’s registry. He searched through records that dated from before the standard white rectangular papers, before parchments, before papyrus, even before the carvings on stone tablets. These records were written on crumbling, ancient scrolls light as air made of glittering stardust. 

Most importantly, Gabriel found Beelzebub’s old name. It was etched into the scroll in texts of Holy fire, as clear as the day it was written. Names held a special power-- they defined who and what you were. In the beginning, names were chosen and specially crafted for each angel, though some names had since been abandoned and changed. Once Gabriel saw their name, he recollected everything. 

He recollected their blissful afternoons together. Joking together, commenting on the events of Heaven together. Listening to each others' thoughts and feelings, promising to guard each others' secrets. Gabriel could still remember some of these secrets, and he wondered if they still were relevant now. Back then, they both thought they would always be together.

He whispered:

“Haniel." God's joy. "I regret my younger self’s mockery towards you. I want to forgive you fully for falling, and though I would like for you to forgive me too, I accept if you do not. Either way, I want to say that I regret making you fall, and I am sorry that I assumed you were not hurt by this. I did wish for us to be friends again, but if you don't accept that, I understand. The fault had been all mine. I wish for us to be good business partners regardless...”

Gabriel had finally arrived at Beelzebub's (no, it is Haniel’s, he told himself) office, but their office door was ajar. There was snickering inside. 

From this angle, Gabriel could see everything that was going on. Haniel was pouring Dagon some scotch while they talked

Most importantly, Haniel was smiling. 

Here they were, a grin on their face as they spoke to Dagon. This hour should still be a time to work. A surge of envy welled inside of Gabriel (since it was so easy for Dagon and them to be bantering), but he pushed it inwards. Haniel was allowed to be happy without him.

Gabriel realised that that he should wait until Haniel was finished. So he stepped out of sight to wait-

“You talked with Uriel today, Beelzebub?” Uriel! 

“Eh. They were fine. I’ll take Uriel any day. Michael keeps on talking my ear off.”

How could they! Michael was a hard worker! Or… was Gabriel being prideful about what he was again? There was some truth, after all. Michael could be somewhat of a micromanager.

Gabriel focused on something else. So even once Michael was unavailable, Gabriel was not called to come downstairs? That couldn’t be right, could it? Or was Haniel actively avoiding him now? A heavy weight sunk down Gabriel’s stomach. He thought he was prepared for this, but he was not.

“But you know how angels are. Always too frightened to leave the status quo. Makes me feel sorry for whatever bastard has to deal with them up there.”

“Heh. You think she’s worse than Sandalphon?” Gabriel raised his eyebrows at the mention of his friend.

“At least it’s entertaining to watch him heave his weight around.” Dagon barked out a laugh and Gabriel scrunched up his nose. He then recollected his words to a certain principality a few months prior and realised the irony.

“Worse than Gabriel?” That sentence shook every fibre of Gabriel’s being. It was as if a knife was rammed into his chest. “Running like an engine without a driver. He’s hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”

Gabriel chewed his lower lip as he anticipated for Haniel to respond. But they didn’t. 

“He’s too desperate,” Dagon continued. “Needy, too, even for an angel! Really, I’m surprised he’s still around.” 

Haniel still would not respond. Was this a turning point? Would Haniel defend him?

“And, and maybe that’s why he was made the messenger of Heaven! They just needed a mailman!” Dagon cackled. “Heh. Six thousand years old, the same age as us, and still as naive and clingy as a fledgeling...”

Haniel still remained quiet.

"Beez?" Dagon whispered.

They finally responded. "Yes?"

"Calling Gabriel down here… it was a mistake on my part. Really, the proper choice was to find a loophole to always make Michael come down here. Who knew that Gabriel had been so awful to you?"

He was? But that was not true. Beelzebub was not laughing. The atmosphere thickened like the algae that dripped from the walls.

Then Haniel sighed. “Dickhead's been tailing me.”

What?

“He used me. He used me before the war.”

“As in…”

“He’d use me to dump all of his anxieties. Was this right, was that right. And you know what? It’s only because he can’t look after himself.”

“And?”

“And it’s because he was so desperate with what was right and what was wrong that he did not have any hindsight as to what it all meant. And he took all of the credit!” They sighed. “You know what, Dagon? He’s only around today because he stuck to Heaven’s laws completely. If he was here, he’d be dead.”

“That’s it!”

“And yet he has the audacity to talk to me like we’ve always been friends!”

“Yes!”

“He thinks that if he just played nice I’ll let him use me. If he thinks that he can use me as a lightning rod for his anxieties again, I’m not going to let him.”

“Yes!”

“He can crap himself all he wants, I’m not picking up his shit again.”

“Pfft, vulgar, but you’re a prince of Hell!”

Gabriel scrunched up the hems of his blazer. No… no, that wasn’t true, was it? Why were Haniel’s memories so different from his? Why was he the villain? Why was he never aware of this? But the events Beelzebub described did happen, only that Gabriel remembered them as occasional moments of counselling, nothing too grave. 

Gabriel couldn’t even remember their old name. Who knew how many memories he had with Haniel were distorted through his view?

“I am here for you, Beez,” Dagon stated, “a-and if that wank wings Gabriel ever showed up again, I’ll talk to him for you! Whatever excuses he has to talk, he’ll have to go through me first. You deserve better, my Lord.”

Haniel (but it did not fit them well anymore) chuckled. “You know it's not right for demons to trust each other, Dagon.” But the light lilt in their speech said it all.

Gabriel ran. 

It didn’t matter what he bumped into or where he headed or how he looked or who he crashed into, all that mattered was that he was away from this awful place.

He ran. He ran until the hallway to Heaven was in sight, where the lights were bright compared to the damp, dark mess of Hell. Gabriel had to squint after his eyes had adjusted to the dark for so long.

He ran. He ran up the cold, limestone stairs.

Gabriel tripped while he was halfway through, in an awful place too sterile to be Hell, too dark to be Heaven. 

He… he did not understand. Had Beelzebub always regretted their relationship?

Was he wronged? Or was this just his pride? Did he deserve to be talked down upon? Because it had been his actions, alright. Emotions were often wrong. The truth was never clear, it was meant to be something hard to discover and hard to swallow. If it was easy, then it was only a comfortable lie.

Gabriel was faced with the truth alright. And this was the result. Gabriel, sprawled across these stairs as his vision blurred and his lungs ached for air.

There was only one answer out of this whole ordeal. Beelzebub did not want Gabriel anymore.

Fine. Gabriel wiped his face. He didn’t either. 

He missed Haniel.


	5. Chapter 5

Gabriel was sick of it. Gabriel was sick of the answerless questions that flung around his head.

So one day, Gabriel couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted anything, anything to support his questions. Even if it was just a measly placebo effect.

Conway, Massachusetts, United States. A small town with a population of less than 2000. It was so obscure, surely no one would ever find him here, even if accidentally. And that was for the better, considering how inappropriate his choice was.

It was comical, Gabriel thought as he watched the church, the sky still a twilight blue-- him, an accused religious zealot, going to mass as if blindly fighting fire with fire, as if it could fix himself.

“Gabriel!” He nearly jolted out of his skin. Gabriel held up his hand, ready to either miracle some amnesia or grab a thunderbolt, but he stopped completely once he saw who it was.

One other reason why Gabriel chose this reclusive town was to hope that the option was so ridiculously specific and typical of him that it’d catch the attention of a certain demon. On the surface, it was ridiculous how this thought consumed him and stopped him from properly doing his work and halted his life completely. Of course, Gabriel did not expect them to follow him here since the said demon had not talked to him in several months, nor expressed any interest in rekindling their friendship, nor wanted Gabriel in their presence. But they’ve heard Gabriel, right? With a scene as big as that, Gabriel was quite certain that all of Hell was alerted. And if that demon bothered enough about him to still be conflicted about their relationship, at the very least perhaps maybe, just maybe, they could bother enough to look out for him.

Gabriel did not expect any angels to follow him here either.

“Sandalphon…”

“I’ve seen how you acted recently and I can see that you are not well. You are nervous. You are tired. You are timid, and I’ve been keeping an eye out on you and you are not yourself. Why, old friend?”

And Gabriel fell to his knees. He grasped his good friend’s shins, and cried.

It was embarrassing. Humiliating. No Archangel should be whimpering like a newborn mortal baby, especially not to another Archangel. Yet as Sandalphon tidied his hair and let him finish, Gabriel did not feel out of place at all. 

After Gabriel was finished, they sat down and talked. But Sandalphon’s questions blurred in Gabriel’s mind. How could Gabriel explain everything? Whatever words were forming in Gabriel’s mind stuck together like putty. All of his issues were codependent with together, and, well… considering what Gabriel had done, blaming the root cause for his grief would be hypocritical, no?

Once again: Sandalphon stated: “whatever issue you’re going through, you’re welcome to say it. I can handle anything.”

_“If he thinks that he can use me as a lightning rod for his anxieties again, I’m not going to let him.”_

“I… I thank you for your concern, Sandalphon, but this is something I must go through myself.”

Sandalphon furrowed his eyebrows. “Why? Who told you that? I’ll fight them for you. Tomorrow. In Heaven. One on one duel, how’s that?”

Gabriel stroked the back of his head. “They’re a demon, actually.” 

“A demon! Bah! Then you shouldn’t listen to them. They cause nothing but trouble for you lot, demons-”

“I knew them. I knew them before the war in Heaven.”

Sandalphon furrowed his brows. And then Gabriel realised his grave mistake. Sandalphon was human once, the prophet Elijah. While he had heard of the War in Heaven from conversations and rumours, Sandalphon had never experienced it. What was Gabriel doing, asking advice from someone who was once human and who had no reference to it?

“So… you knew this demon from when they were an angel?”

“I did. Yes. Yes, I did.” But this very act, confessing personal matters to a friend of his, was making Gabriel feel disgusted guilty. He needed to take care of himself for a change. “It’s a long story, but I can explain everything after I’m done today. I need time to recollect my thoughts, so I’m going to spend some time alone here in this town’s church and clear my head.”

“I can come too if you want.”

That offer ached. But he wanted privacy in his visit. “I must go through this myself, Sandalphon. You can do whatever throughout the town. See what’s around, bless something, your choice.”

Sandalphon nodded. Then whispered:

“Good luck.”

Gabriel walked inside.

* * *

Narcissus. The boy so vain, he fell in love with his reflection and stayed by the spring until he died.

That was the first thought Gabriel had once he saw the bowl of Holy water at the entrance of the church.

Gabriel will see himself. Gabriel will see himself and see the same face as the one that mocked Beelzebub all those millennia ago. Angels did not age, but remain the same fixed face their entire life. And Gabriel will see himself as what he was— a prideful thing that held himself too highly. He will see crisp clean clothes, neat hair, and that smile. That damned, careless smile.

He gulped and gazed into the reflection.

A tired, exasperated middle-aged man stared back.

His visage was twisted into a complex expression. Eyebags highlighted in red hung under his eyes. His tousled hair needed combing, his crumpled clothes needed ironing. Even those violet eyes did not seem to shine as brilliantly.

That was a man who needed solace.

That was him.

Was that what he looked like all this time?

Gabriel dipped his five fingers into the Holy water and signed the cross. “In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit, amen.”

He exhaled and looked around the church. At this time of day, there were two other people here. In the far end of the church, a young lady twirled her thumbs as she sat on a pew. On Gabriel’s left, an elderly man balanced on his cane as he gazed upon a votive candle he had lit. The metal votive stand was still stained with the wax from yesterday. Gabriel made a note to check whether the votive candle miracles were up to date and answered.

While walking further into the nave, Gabriel realised that as an angel he should probably answer that man’s prayer. But on the other hand, he did not know who the man prayed for and for what reason. In that case, he will have to manually check it through the prayers department.

There was no doubt that this church looked very… ordinary. It was not as mighty as the limestone cathedrals in the cities, where elaborate stained windows dappled the sunlight and where each step one took clacked on the marble floors. In contrast, this church had walls of plaster and arches and floorboards of wood, practically the same material as all of the houses in this town. If it wasn’t for the brass crucifix of Jesus Christ hanging at the altar, it would’ve been mistaken as a simple community hall. 

Gabriel walked towards a pew and sat down. There was no kneeler attached at the front pew, nor a book of prayers like the other big cathedrals he had visited. That should be fine, Gabriel could recite a lot of psalms and prayers. 

He rubbed his jaw and glanced up. The presentation of Jesus Christ crucified during His lowest moment had always been such a gruesome, humiliating image, even if the Almighty intended it that way. For the longest time, Gabriel had never quite accepted how his tragedy was cherished as his symbol. Gabriel was there in Golgotha. He didn’t need to be reminded of how painful it was for Him. 

O God, o God, why have you forsaken me, He had cried to the Heavens, starved, mocked, flogged, abused. 

The fifth sorrowful mystery of the Holy Rosary. 

Gabriel considered whether he should pray the rosary to meditate on the mysteries. He had indeed been ignorant and let his pride cloud over his judgement, and he did choose to visit this church to clear his mind.

It was inappropriate for him to pray the Holy Rosary when it was intended for mortal people to learn from and reflect on the mysteries. Aside from the fact that records that he was here may show up in Heaven, it was inappropriate considering how he was an angel-- he was designed to not ever do wrong, unlike mortal people who are inherently flawed, and something inside him was so wrong Gabriel did so anyway. 

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.

Would Mary forgive him if she knew? Gabriel chewed his bottom lip. She would. She always would grant forgiveness unconditionally. So if he told her… yes, it was indeed a possibility.

Considering the gravity of his mistakes, Gabriel did not know what or how to feel about this. 

It was quiet. Gabriel straightened his lapels and looked around. It seemed that there was only himself inside the church. Suddenly he felt small. A single figure, alone in an empty church, deep inside a town in the middle of miles of empty land. 

Someone behind him stood up. 

It was a middle-aged businesswoman who was leaving the church. With her sharp haircut and suit design, she looked more fit to be in Wall Street. But her suit needed ironing, her hair needed combing. She marched out of the church as if she had a mission to do, then she pulled out her phone and called someone. Gabriel could not hear much since she was outside, but he could barely make out words of “sorry,” “I was wrong,” “I shouldnt’ve,”

And, three words that made the hairs on the back of Gabriel’s neck stand:

“Please forgive me.”

He wondered: how many people were in the same position as him?

The woman left, however, and Gabriel was alone again. Gabriel looked down at his hands. He drew in a deep breath and raised his head.

And so he watched. 

He watched people come and go. He watched clear long term residents walk into here as if it was their home as well as tourists who peeked inside to take photographs. He watched people pray, he watched people curse. He watched people simply wander in and look around, dazed, he watched people sign their crosses and grasp upon the hope it brought. 

He watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was originally going to be a sermon in this chapter-- however, as a nondenominational Christian I had never been to one before, so I made do with a short visit to the church. 
> 
> Early Abrahamic sources state that the Archangel Sandalphon was once the Prophet Elijah, so I included that into my fic, even if it is a little contradictory with the show (given that Elijah is a contemporary of Jesus yet Sandalphon in the show is credited with Sodom and Gomorrah, an event two millenniums before the birth of Jesus Christ).
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for reading this fic and giving kudos and comments, I really appreciate the enthusiasm in all of them! Though I am much too busy to reply to them, I appreciate each and every one of them regardless.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A priest approaches Gabriel.

“Good evening! Are you waiting for someone?”

Gabriel jolted. He looked up. It was a priest. And the priest was looking in his direction.

It was indeed nighttime. The lights inside of the church were on, and it was dark outside. Had he really been sitting here for the entire day?

Think up a proper reply, Gabriel told himself. But don't state the reason he was here in this church-- he was supposed to be this priest’s Archangel, after all. He was supposed to guide him, not the other way around.

It then came to him that perhaps the reason this priest was so drawn to him was the fact that Gabriel was a stranger. Here in this town of 2000, a local priest would be familiar with a lot of faces here, so he would know something was not right if he noticed that Gabriel had sat here for the entire day. Gabriel cleared his throat.

“I’m from New York,” he lied, hoping that there will be no issues. “New York City. Came here for some fresh air! That is probably why you can’t recognise me.” Gabriel pulled up a smile to fool the priest.

“Recognise you? Oh. Well, I don’t think I can, anyway. I’m very new here too.” What were the odds. 

“I’m also... I’m also visiting relatives here,” Gabriel added.

The priest stroked his chin. “Unless you’re related to the pews, I don’t think they would appreciate it if you stayed here this long.”

“Alright, alright!"

The priest nodded. “Well, Conway is a popular tourist destination. Lots of people come here for hikes, in case that may interest you. Great for clearing one’s head.”

They were not making eye contact. It was enough time for Gabriel to see that it was twilight out of the church. A quiet sigh came out of Gabriel.

Walks just distract you from your problems. Just another distraction from the real issue.

But the priest heard and hummed in response. Gabriel had said that out loud! “But what you described sounds nice,” Gabriel quickly added.

The priest stood up. “I would love to talk more, but I’m afraid that there are others waiting for me.”

Gabriel raised his head. What did he do wrong this time? But he saw that the priest was walking to a confessional on the far end of the church. It was an old fashioned confession booth with motifs carved into the wood and a heavy velvet curtain. Compared to this church, it seemed very out of place. Must be a heritage object. There was one other person waiting on the pews as the priest walked into his compartment. Gabriel realised that perhaps the priest was inviting him. Should he?

Gabriel looked at his palms and chewed his lower lip.

* * *

Wasn’t it shameful for an Archangel to come forth to a mortal person for help? Yes. Yes it was, but Gabriel simply had to lift certain matters off of his chest. And this was a priest’s job sometimes, to provide consolation. Of course, Gabriel won’t say everything about himself. He’ll only skim matters that were simple yet suited his situation, and then deal with the rest of the issues later.

The plan was to wait at the seats out of etiquette. Then, he will decide whether he would indeed go inside after all. He decided that the best way for that to happen was to study how effective confession would be, even if it was not governed by celestial powers. It was the reason why he had come here, wasn’t it? As a quick placebo effect to kick these stupid thoughts to the curb.

Say that a confession was indeed a placebo effect for Gabriel. He could gather whether it would be effective by looking at how content the last person in the confessional was once they came out. Then he will decide whether or not to go inside. The last confessor was a young woman, so once she came out, Gabriel will just use her expression as a guide to make his final decision. If the woman came out content? Perhaps Gabriel could try confession out. If the woman still seemed conflicted? Then... perhaps he should look somewhere else to figure out how to clean up this mess.

But as she left the curtains, her head was turned away, so Gabriel could not look whether she was happy or dissatisfied. He could not tell what mood she was from her walk, either.

Gabriel realised that he will have to decide alone whether or not he should go in himself. But can he trust himself to make a good decision? He gulped and stretched his tightened joints.

In the end, Gabriel stepped within the purple velvet curtains.

* * *

Upon the cushioned kneeler he kneeled as the confessional’s earthy smells of pine and dust enveloped him. It was dark inside the confessional. Though pockets of light shone through the gaps between the curtain and the wood, it was dark. Moreso, it was cramped. Gabriel gulped. The booth seemed to be squeezed around him and a dizzy sensation overcame him. The hatched window was still closed. He must endure this. He chose to do this, so he will have to wait.

While he needed to wait for the priest, there was still time before his supposed confession, right? So Gabriel parted the curtain at the booth’s entrance with his fingertips. It was just to let a little more light in, and to let Gabriel peek out to the hall of the church. That way, Gabriel won’t have to leave. He drew a deep breath in as his eyes closed, distracting himself from this cramped-

The window slid open.

Gabriel scrambled to the right position.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” he recited.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

“It has been... it has been a long time since my last confession.” He gulped. He shouldn't lie, should he? “It has been _never_ since my last confession.” Because he shouldn’t be doing so. He shouldn’t be doing so right now, even, but he broke this rule for selfish purposes. His head was spinning. His head was spinning, and suddenly his vision blurred.

“How are you doing today?”

“I’m fine-” but Gabriel’s voice was wavering. “It’s, it’s just this box, I think. Even if there’s nothing that this box would do.”

“Ah. Claustrophobic?”

“What? No...” Gabriel gave an uneasy laugh. “Not that much.”

“If it bothers you so much, we can go outside-”

“NO!” Gabriel clasped his mouth as the reply jumped out.

“Very well,” the priest replied calmly. “In that case... you’re allowed to close your eyes and picture you’re somewhere outdoors. Take as long as you need.”

Gabriel nodded. He drew a deep breath in and closed his eyes. He tried to recollect somewhere bright. Expansive. But it shouldn’t be Heaven-- he would never live down the shame otherwise.

What other places were there? Gabriel searched through his memory. Somewhere where the horizon stretched for miles on end, and on Earth. Where all could be clearly seen, and nothing was blocked or hidden, but neither Heaven or Hell.

He thought about salt flats. Where the whole ground was a perfect mirror that reflected the sky once it finished raining. Not a soul in sight for miles on end. Gabriel travelled across a salt flat once in Argentina. He thought it was pretty, but didn’t think much else. The salt flat will have to do for now.

So he drew a deep breath in, and imagined himself kneeling in the middle of one. His reflection on the ground as the clouds floated across the water’s sheen and the horizon disappeared. There, it was only him in the middle of the infinite sky.

“I’m ready,” Gabriel declared. “Carry on.”

"How is your relationship with God?" The priest’s voice continued.

"It's very close." Of course it was. He was one of Her faithful servants. But then Gabriel realised the irony of his reply. “But that’s just what I want it to be.”

“What sin do you believe you are affected by?”

There could be one sin, of course. One mortal sin that had plagued him ever since he was created.

“Pride.”  
  
“And why is that?”

Gabriel gulped. “I’m afraid it’s stitched into the very fabric of my being. I’m afraid that the Almighty made a mistake when She... ‘scuse me, He made me. And I think to myself: why? Why am I like this if my purpose is to help, to guide? Why have I always been ignorant of a flawed system by thinking of it as great and righteous if it had hurt people out of propaganda? And what am I when I believed in that? A fraud?”

He loved Her. He really did. But it didn’t excuse him of what he had done and how there was something wrong with him.

“What makes you think of that, my son?”

It then came to him just how much he had talked. He could not help it, the words drained out like water. But the priest was listening, so Gabriel continued.

“Well.” As much as Gabriel hated to admit it, there was a single event that triggered this whole problem. He sighed. “A few... decades ago, I ruined the life of a friend of mine. All this time, I never thought that it would be my fault, because I thought that what I did was harmless. Why do I deserve love if I am so prideful?”

“That is understandable. However, God accepts you no matter what you do. From the moment you are born, you are forgiven.”

“I don’t think that can be the case. I think I’m born broken.”

The priest was quiet for a moment. “Yes. For some people, all of mankind is indeed born broken and imperfect. And for some of those people, all of mankind is pardoned by Jesus Christ, because He saw the potential for goodness in humanity if they're treated right."

But he was not human-- he had no excuse. Gabriel furrowed his brows. He needed to change the topic. “I understand that. What about all my hypocrisy? Surely there must be something wrong with me if I have never seen it before.”

“That is alright. Though change is inevitable, you can be forgiven and start anew. It may be a good thing you took notice of that now rather than never. Perhaps there’s a reason now that the Almighty gifted you with the ability to change now.”

Gabriel nodded. Maybe. Was there a good reason? Well... after Armageddon had been ruined, all of Heaven and Hell needed to reboot. Maybe this was a good opportunity to change himself, too.

He gulped. “There is a passage in the good book. About turning the other cheek. And I was disgusted at my old friend for turning the other cheek on me. Shouldn’t I accept that they had done so?”

“The purpose of the quote is to work for both ways, and encourages the reader to confront peril with grace while also knowing your right to challenge it.”

“But I do not have the right to do that!”

“As long as we are alive, we all have the right to be listened to. Even if the desire for justice is twisted into the need for revenge, some say that to defend oneself is to respect the miracle that you are living, breathing, and that you are here. You were hurt, and there is no shame in admitting that.”

Gabriel paused. But was it right? “Then what about the friend? I-I can’t leave them alone. I mean, I was the reason why they turned away from the Almighty.”

He waited for a reply. But there was a long, pensive pause from the priest. “I’ve learnt that sometimes, there are paths other than God. And sometimes, they find prosperity in the other direction, and so I let them.”

"But... but who would want to reject the Almighty unless forced to do so?”

"It happens, my son. Sometimes, they find prosperity, sometimes they do not. But we need to respect their choices nonetheless."

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows. So all this time, the choice was to do nothing? Ah. Somehow, a tiny part of him sighed in relief in finally getting recognised. All this time, Gabriel was desperate to get answers about whether he was virtuous enough or not, when sometimes, maybe there were none. He did it by trying to reconcile with Beelzebub, because deep inside, he knew that it was the one action he regretted. It had little to do with Beelzebub themselves, and Beelzebub could do fine without him, anyway. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by that.

“For your penance, I recommend seeking reconciliation with yourself. More specifically, your calling. Even if He, or She, if that works better for you, had arranged for you to be in the dark, I find gaining hindsight to be a valuable point of view. May the Holy Spirit accompany and support you throughout this journey.”

Gabriel opened his eyes and he was back inside the confessional. He then recited the Act of Contrition. They bid each other farewell, and he was off.

* * *

So that was how mortals handled their relationship with God. Was that really what She wanted? Was this meant to be? Gabriel did not know.

Neither did anyone else, but perhaps this was something he could accept.

Perhaps he and Beelzebub were never meant to be forever. That was at least how Gabriel understood this situation. Maybe that was just how She intended, and maybe Gabriel needn’t change that. He could accept it. Beelzebub was better off without him, and he was better off without Beelzebub.

Gabriel walked out of the church’s doors. On his way out, he passed the votive candles. He stopped.


	7. Chapter 7

And so Gabriel explained to Sandalphon everything. 

How Gabriel knew Beelzebub as the angel Haniel. How Gabriel had mocked their beliefs. How Haniel hence fell and became Beelzebub. How Beelzebub blamed Gabriel for their fall. How they spent 6000 years stagnant. How Beelzebub wanted nothing to do with Gabriel ever again. 

How Gabriel had not a care in the world. How Gabriel remembered their friendship wrong. It truly felt like he was being too stupid and sensitive about a matter that can never be fixed again, and he was such an awful angel. 

How Beelzebub grasped onto their grudge. How Beelzebub refused to accept any of Gabriel's apologies. How they openly talked ill of Gabriel and pretended that they had not said anything of the sort at all. 

“Gabriel...” Sandalphon breathed out. “Well… do you want us to do something about it?”

Gabriel blinked. “N-no.”

Sandalphon widened his eyes and squinted at him. “No? Are you sure?”

“No. I did the wrong thing back then, yeah, but whether Beelzebub wants to cut me off for good?” Gabriel thought of how Beelzebub mocked him in front of Dagon and how much it stung. But with a grimace, he shrugged. “Their choice."

Sandalphon scoffed. “Their loss. Come on.” And he gave Gabriel’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s go home.”

Sandalphon stood up from the bench and paced towards the middle of the pavement. The prospect that they were about to leave made Gabriel remember he wanted something. 

“Well," Gabriel started. Sandalphon looked back. "Why the rush? We don’t need to go yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’ve only just arrived on Earth. We could go try something. Like… Starbucks! What if we try some Starbucks before we go?”

“Star… bucks?”

“It’s a type of coffee, a mortal beverage.”

“Ah. Coffee. I had that before"

“You drank coffee before? What was the…” a word was at the tip of Gabriel’s tongue but he could not remember what. 

“Taste?”

“Taste! Exactly what I was thinking about.”

“First of all, coffee is very spicy, so you have to let it cool before you can drink it.”

“Oh, I think I saw some  _ not _ spicy coffee on sale. You drink it cold, so I think that would be minty?”

“Minty coffee? My, we’ve got to see what tomfoolery the humans have come up with!”

And so the two Archangels tried some frappuccinos at the nearest Starbucks.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this fic <3


End file.
